Dressed to Kill
by FersureZelda
Summary: ONESHOT. "We wanted so badly to fit in. It was like we thought that if we wore the right pottery caked make-up on our faces, we'd get the red carpet treatment instantaneously. Boy, were we wrong." - Kairi.


**Story Disclaimer: **I don't own anything other than this pc I'm using to type this and my imagination.

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**D**r_e__**s**s**e**_**d t**o **K**_i_ll

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I woke up. My eyes stared at the ceiling above me, decorated with a cheap imitation of a star filled sky. I couldn't help but wonder what that wretched dream I've been having meant.

_It started off with Namine and I playing at the park next door. We were still kids, with our knees scraped and our 99 cent lip gloss in our pockets. Yeah, that's when our 11 year old minds didn't know the difference between "jumping on the bandwagon" and just being ourselves. We wanted so badly to fit in. It was like we thought that if we wore the right pottery caked make-up on our faces, we'd get the red carpet treatment instantaneously. __Boy, were we wrong._

_Anyway, we were playing in our ridiculous dresses, when the wind picked up. Soon after, the world was on mute. The silence before the storm was deafening. It gave you that eerie feeling that happens when your headphones come unplugged and you don't want to listen to the intense sound of nothing._

_Then, from no where in particular.. a man came. He was wrinkled like a Shar Pei, with his skin full of ocean waves and hidden caves. He walked up to us, his face filled with a mysterious expression I could not decipher. He looked from me, to Namine, and then to me again._

_"Don't tempt fate," spoke the old man from his ChapStick deprived lips._

_"What do you mean, sir?"_

_After those few words are spoken, it's always the same thing. The man walks away just as he came, leaving me grasping to an unsolved riddle in my hands. _

I look at the glow-in-the-dark stars, trying to make sense of it all. I close my eyes, hoping this will spark an idea back to my brain-stem and jog my memory. _Whatever_, I think to myself, _it probably meant nothing at all._

I get my clothes, picking out a black tee and a skirt, along with leggings. I'll admit, vanity seems to play a leading role when it comes to my preferences. It holds top rankings next to Johnny Depp and StarBucks. Only I'd cast Angelina Jolie as myself, rather than my own skeletal form.

Okay, so you may have heard me say muttered words about the infamous discontentment I have with the scene of conformity. I talked about "pottery caked faces" and wanting to break the bandwagon, you're right. But when all you have to defend yourself is your appearance, you use what God gave you. You dress to kill.

I enter the high school with my nicely dressed clothing and covered up with make-up. I've learnt from my years of going here that I may not get the glamour of the red carpet by looking like this, but at least it gives me my own satisfaction when I looked into a rain puddle or a bathroom mirror.

Namine walks in. She's dressed in her daddy's money and mother's genes. She looks my way and smirks a sarcastic grin, in hopes to upset me. I stare at her pretty doll face and then look away in disappointment. _When did she change like this? Did her parents rearrange her bed so that she wakes up on the wrong side everyday?_

"I hate you," she spits out.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Namine.. I cannot say I feel that way at all about you."

So, that's how it went down. After years of what I thought to be a good friendship, everything is broken and shattered to peices. She leaves me standing there and as I watch her walk away without a regret on her face. Her plastic smile and ficticious laugh made me realize something... she never cared, not at all.

_"Dont tempt fate," the old man had said._

I think I finally understand, now. Attempting to keep a friendship with her was always like playing a card game where the outcome was unknown. She was too consumed with her social status and appearance, that she forgot what her insides felt like. We wanted to be noticed, so she fell victim to the luxurious drug called vanity. Maybe plastic isn't a survival skill at all. Dying with the most toys doesn't necessarily mean you had anyone to share them with. I don't think I need this powdery mask... it's time to look vulnerability in the face for all that it's worth. I refuse to wear a dress that only consumes in its own self-interest. _It just may sufficate those wearing it and kill. _

**Hope you Enjoyed. Please Review! **

**-**FerSureZelda-


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